


Midnight

by DistantStorm



Series: Midnight/Daybreak [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationships, F/M, First Time, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 22:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm
Summary: A tie-in piece to Phoenix Protocol. The first time Zavala and Miyu, an awoken Warlock, engage in intimate relations. A dorky first-time after a long-time fic featuring two people who are desperate to please each other instead of enjoying themselves.





	Midnight

Since that evening, weeks ago, when Miyu had kissed him in his office, he'd known where things would lead. One kiss turned into several, turned into wandering hands, became a primal need. And oh, did he crave her.

It wasn't the kind of desire that constantly burned hot and demanding in his belly, no. That kind of fire burned out quickly. This was like embers being blown on, stoking the coals, making them glow. A strong enough gust of wind could set him ablaze at any point in time. This was different than any encounter he'd had in, well, it had been a long time since he'd partaken in physical relations with another, and far longer since he'd indulged a relationship. Too long to count.

Though, he was certain not to think about that too long, lest his Ghost give him the facts.

Didn't change the fact that things were, in fact, different. 

The last time they'd parted, her robes were disheveled, her lips swollen and plump, the perfect shade of Aegean blue. She'd been pressed up against him, molded to his chestplate, his hands kneading at her thighs. He'd felt the twinge of her hips, but there was no way he'd be able to finish what he had started. There was a strike planned for the evening that would take most of the night. Duty called.

That was why planning was important. He had carefully plotted out time and developed a backup plan in the event that something went wrong. He’d forgotten how this was, to have to map out his personal life days, even a week ahead. It had been so much simpler when there were three of them to split duties.

She brings him back to the present when she closes the door behind them. Delicate fingers lock the lock, though he can’t tell if she’s after privacy for what’s about to unfold or if it’s simply habit at this point.

All of it becomes a moot point when she kisses him. This is the first time they're both out of standard gear and he can feel the softness of her curves through his sweater. She loops her arms around his neck and angles her head just right and all he can think about is how she tastes so sweet. 

They're standing in his kitchen. The apartment is dark, save for the lights of the City outside winking through the windows. Without a decent surface in the compact area to press her against, he hauls her up with his hands on her rear. 

It's a great idea and a horrible one because she's light by his estimation, but also she rocks her pelvis against his and the lack of blood flow to his head might actually become a serious problem. Every fiber of his being is acutely attuned to her pressed against him, his mind spinning incoherently when she gasps out of their liplock and licks a playful stripe down the side of his neck, teeth worrying ever so gently against one of his navy colored tattoos.

"Bedroom?" The word takes some effort to get out, he's trying not to lose himself to rutting against her. It just feels so good and he hasn't taken any of his clothes off.

She nods into his shoulder, almost bashful. He bars a hand under her thighs to keep her from falling, the other resting at her crown and stroking through her hair. She makes a tiny, needy noise when his fingers ghost over the shell of her ear. It makes him chuckle, though the sound shoots straight to his groin.

When he presses her down into the mattress he strikes, licking into her mouth, swallowing what is surely a throaty moan when her hands scramble for purchase on his back. She forces her hips up and against his and there is no doubt that she can feel his desire, despite their entrapments.

He pulls his sweater over his head the second they pull away for a breath. Her hands wander, following the patterns of starlight that shift beneath his skin, dragging heavy over his pectorals and the wall of muscle that is his abdomen. Her eyes are focused, twin moons that glow despite the darkness. She's reverent as she touches him, maps out every plane of him she can reach beneath her fingertips.

It's too much. He has to close his eyes, he can't watch her watching him, and he has to draw back because the warmth of her body, the becoming motion of her hips is going to send him right over the edge and things haven't even started yet. 

She has other ideas. Her fingers dig into the meat of his back, pulling him flush against her. He can feel her nipples, hard and pebbled beneath her robes. He groans into her kiss, and she responds by sucking his lower lip between her teeth and he's lost, lost to this unassuming siren beneath him, to the drag of her hips against his, to the pleased hum she makes against him when they finally pull away for air, to her hands, gripping his hips, thumbs stroking his skin in a tender contrast.

It dawns on him that there is absolutely no way he's going to last long. Time has not been his ally in this. She frowns when he rolls off of her carefully. Seeing that he's only moving up to the head of the bed, she rises, rounding the other side of the mattress.

Zavala is waiting. When she lays down, he eases her onto her back, one hand on her cheek while he kneels beside her. She watches him carefully. She tries to sit up, to reciprocate when he begins carefully mapping out her body beneath her silk robes, but he stops what he's doing to kiss her chastely.

"You don't have to," She murmurs, when their foreheads are pressed together, and his fingertips are searching for the knot of her sash. "I can-"

He hums something indulgent against her ear, and he doesn't need to see her bare skin to know she's covered in gooseflesh. "I want to, Miyu," He continues, lips ghosting against her skin. She shudders. "Will you allow me?"

The Warlock nods, almost immediately. Her lunar eyes have become hazy with lust, but her body hasn't completely relaxed yet. He runs his hands down the front of her, tantalizingly slowly, and watches her respond: her back arching to better allow his hand to cup her breasts, her quiet moan when he just barely grazes her center.

Her robe is untied easily and it's like unwrapping a present. He rips it open and -

_Buttons?_

The fabric tears audibly, the small pop and clink of buttons that have been ejected from the ensemble rolling around the floor beneath the bed. "I'm sorry," He says as he withdraws.  He's ruined this with his impatience, he knows it. It's blatantly obvious that he's out of practice. "I'm so sorry. I'll replace it-"

But she's laughing. It's like the quietest tinkling of bells, sweet and smooth. "It's okay," She replies, smiling. Her breaths are heavy, and it takes him a moment to realize its the same for him, too. "Don't worry about it," She soothes. "I think we're both a little eager."

He leans over her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her pulse-point. "You have no idea," He rumbles, "How much I want you."

"Hmm," She arches again as he peels back the fabric of her robes, still a touch embarrassed, but it fades as his thumbs catch her nipples. "Oh," she coos, "I want-" And breaks off into a high pitched keen when he tweaks them between his fingers for good measure. 

She wears no bra, has no bindings over her breasts to further distract from the task at hand. Not too large, but not small, they heave with every breath, her nipples a shade of the sky just before dawn, a blue far darker than her lips. He wants to taste her skin, drag his lips down her body, wants to-

There will be plenty of time for that, he reminds himself, easing his hands down further, where he’s torn her robe in his haste. She’s curvy but solid, lean muscle with a healthy amount of fat over it. Her skin is warm; He can feel the Light inside her churning.

Taking a breath to steady himself, he ventures lower, pulling the robe apart all the way, giving him a view of powerful legs and the curve of her thighs, the parts of her he’s mapped out over clothing but never dared to touch skin-to-skin. He surveys her with only his eyes, watching her squirm, pressing her legs together. It draws his gaze to her sex, to the slick of her arousal soaking through her underwear.

Before he thinks too hard on it, he’s licking over the approximation of her clit through the fabric and she’s grinding her hips up to meet his face, the fiery Light trapped within her calling like a siren-song to the Void that coils deep inside him. He can’t help the frustrated sound he makes, or the way he has to adjust himself, his erection almost painful for how badly he wants her.

She takes the hint and slides her arms free of her robes, her smile nearly confident. Surely she feels the pull of his Light as well. It’s enrapturing.

Fingers slide across his lower abdomen, catching at the button of his slacks. Nimbly she navigates them, slipping the button free of the eyelet and tugging the zipper down carefully.

The musculature of his taut abdomen trails down to the waistband of his briefs. He is not terribly tall, and he appears smaller without armor, but it is clear there is nothing small about him, his length thick and heavy like the rest of him. She divests him of his pants and manages to straddle his waist in one motion.

His eyes roll back when her clothed core slides over the head of his cock, fabric hardly a barrier between them. She moves slow and dangerous against him, lips blossoming into a grin that is surely a tease.

"No," He groans out, and she freezes, a deer-in-headlights look twisting her face in fright. She scurries off of him and he sighs. "I-" He throws his head back, blinking at the ceiling. "I didn't mean-"

"Am I-"

"No!" He interrupts urgently, then realizes he sounds more upset with her than he is with himself for behaving like a juvenile. "No, you're perfect." He turns onto his side, watching her curl up atop her robes. "You," He sighs, tsking, shaking his head with a rueful chuckle. "I feared I may not have… last, if you kept that up. I want you to enjoy yourself-"

"If you are, I'm happy," She whispers, chin to her knees, her glowing eyes like beacons in the dark. "I don't mind."

"Gracious of you," He admits, gaze softening. "But it would please me far more for you to find your release first."

She squirms a little at that, and he can see the flush when she looks down, the pale light of her eyes giving away that pretty lavender-esque blush at his pointed words.

"Would you let me,  _Anata_?" Her eyes rise to his like magnets.

"What?"

"May I-"

" _Anata wa,_ " She breathes, almost breathless, and he tips his head, answering the question she cannot finish with his eyes. Miyu nods, legs sliding down, crossed arms falling away. " _Onegai._ "

He smiles at her then, she can see it in the dark. No teeth, all lips, and gleaming, brilliant, warm eyes. His hands slide up her legs from her calves, carefully tracing the tender flesh. She watches carefully as he brings his fingers to soft cotton that covers her sex.

"Lay back," He whispers, and she complies, dipping her heels so he can slide them off of her with ease. She's not completely relaxed still, he can feel it when she lays back against the bed. He strokes her hip with the back of his knuckles, shifting up on her right to kiss her gently. "Relax," He bids her in his smooth, rumbling baritone. She shivers when his breath ghosts over her ear again. "Allow me."

She hums in the affirmative and he moves to the edge of the bed, kneeling over her lower half, gently prying her legs apart. That delicate blush is back, her lips parted just slightly, her stomach flexing in tune with the nervous anticipation that is her wayward Light, locked inside of her.

He rubs a gentle circle in her right thigh while he kisses her left. She gasps, body tensing like a bow-string. "Miyu. It's alright," He aims to console her, switching to the other thigh, moving up slightly.

"You're-" He kisses the seam where her leg meets her hip and she swallows hard. "Teasing," She blurts, breathless.

"Ah," Zavala licks along the cleft of the cleft of her other leg and pelvis and she shudders more. "All the better to prepare you," He murmurs into her soft skin, eyes where his lips so want to taste her.

She cries out when he laps at her center, prodding gently at her clit. Her eyes squeeze shut as she gasps, fingers looking to grasp for purchase, fanning carefully across the smooth skin of his head. 

"Oh," She groans, his tongue at her entrance, hips rolling up trying to push herself closer to his mouth. "Please."

He hums against her and the vibration leaves her stuttering, limbs shaking and falling away with an uncoordinated flop. Closer, he can tell, based on how she quivers. Not there yet. He sucks carefully on the sensitive bundle of nerves, listens to her call out in pleasure.

"Zavala- _ah_ ," She slurs, and he pauses just long enough to lift his head up, his mouth wet with her arousal. Her eyes lock on his, heavy with lust. "Please," She begs again.

He scrubs his face with his hand, pleased with his handiwork: her flushed skin, the agitated swirl of her aura beneath the surface, her chest heaving. "Beautiful," He apprises her, and she's too far gone to argue him. "Close?"

"Uhn," She says, flipping back. "Yeah," She manages.

"Yeah?" He asks back.

"Yeah," She agrees. "I-"

He sinks two fingers into her, crooking them in one fluid motion, the hot velvet of her walls clenching hard on him. Her back arches, and she cries, bucking up, hard. He rests his head on her left thigh, watching her come undone, little moans hinging on the edge of each breath. Her Light surges upon her release, unbridled and hot, and he feels the Void rise to meet her. Hungry. 

He gasps at the sensation of their innate abilities meeting, grinding his pelvis against the bed, unable to help himself. "Fuck," He curses, heady with it. "Miyu."

The Warlock looks at him with cloudy, sated eyes. There's no way she knows what she's doing, her body reacting on instinct, her Light coiling inside her, no longer wanting. The Void demands more, and he is powerless to resist it, their interests aligned. He pushes himself up to his knees, and her eyes drift below his waist. 

There is hunger in her gaze too, though. "More," She pleads of him in what is nearly a whine. "I need you, Zavala."

His eyes want to roll back, his vision all but swimming at the woman laid bare beneath him. She swallows as she watches his cock bob. Parts her legs a little more, invitingly.

When he's in position and they're face to face once more, he leans down to kiss her. She answers eagerly, tongue tangling with his, arms wrapping up and around his shoulders to press her breasts against his chest. He growls into it when she tips her pelvis up and he ruts across her slippery, drenched folds. She does it again for good measure.

The hands at her side slide down to her hips and pin her down. Only then does she tangibly feel the Void, glowing amethyst against her skin. She writhes and the fire inside her responds in kind, tentative, not at all in the way it used to, but it calls to the Void, invites it to take its fill. 

Miyu reaches a hand up, dances her fingertips along the pale milk-blue markings on his face. He turns his head into her palm, brilliant eyes fluttering shut.

"I won't-" He gasps as he lines himself up. "It's too much," He groans, rearing back to look down on her.

"S'ok," She drawls back, diamond eyes warm and wanting.

For as much as he tries to go slow, to acclimate himself with this new environment, he pushes his cockhead into her and she keens, adjusting to the stretch of him and it backfires spectacularly. Her sounds spur him on, shoot straight to his sex and the next thing he knows, he's pushed all the way in and coming harder than he’s ever remembered.

She flexes those muscles, the ones deep in her core that make her clench and pulse around him, milking him just a little more. When he inhales sharply, sensitive, his breaths coming in wet pants against her neck, she strokes his back.

"I'm sorry," She whispers, "I don't mean to," He huffs as she accidentally tenses around his length again, still buried inside her. "I just…" He attempts a half-hearted thrust and she groans. "You feel so good."

He hums into her ear and nips her pulse point, nuzzling. "Likewise," He informs her, voice gravelly. She thinks she feels it rumble where their chests are pressed together, rather than sound leaving his lips. “I so wanted to feel you fall apart around me.”

The flush that stains her cheeks leaves him chuckling, eyes alight with something playful yet knowing. He pulls out and they both shiver.

"Next time," She hums, softly, tracing the side of his face with her fingers. He nods, looking down at her for another moment and kissing her far more chastely before rolling off to the side.

Zavala is still breathing a bit harder than usual, looking up at the ceiling when he asks, “Do you need anything?”

She shakes her head, rising. “I’ve got it.” Her fingers trail down his chest. "Relax,  _Anata_.”

He sighs as she crosses the room to the en suite. The water runs for a moment, then stops. “That wasn’t too much?”

“What? You know I love it when you speak in the old language,” Her words sound muffled but she returns, a wet cloth in her hands. Her brow furrows as she hands it to him to clean himself off, an act so domestic it makes his chest warm. “Not at all. I loved it.”

“That’s good,” He says, wiping himself down and turning to her. She’s removing the tattered robe from the bed, scooping up the couple of buttons that have scattered across the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry about your robe. I will replace it, Miyu.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She hums. Her brows rise and fall, playful. “I liked it.”

His head tilts to the side and he regards her as she lays back down beside him, their eyes the only light in the room. “You did?” He asks.

“I did.” She flushes, “Your strength is a big turn on.” He finds her fingers and squeezes them. “Even if that barely required effort on your part. It was hot.”

“I...I’m glad,” He replies. “The Void did not-” He pauses, but she’s already shaking her head. “Usually my Light is not so… voracious.” He clears his throat. “It’s been… some time.”

“It felt incredible, Zavala” She murmurs, shuffling closer. Only now does he hear a note of discontent in her voice. Her eyes are squeezed shut when he looks at her. “I just wish I was able to return the favor.”

“I felt your Light.” Rolling back onto his side, he draws her up against him. She sighs against his collarbone and he presses a kiss against her forehead. He draws the bedcovers up and over them with a single hand and she settles. He can feel her breathing even out, the way her body becomes heavy with sleep. He won’t be far behind her.

“It was warm and bright and perfect, just like you.”


End file.
